


Masqueraid

by Theoroark



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dancing, Established Relationship, F/F, Gabe may not respect international law but he does respect Donatella Versace, Heist, Implied Sexual Content, Post-"Masquerade", Team Talon (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 11:31:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12793656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Sombra ties up some loose ends from the last time they were at the casino. Widow is suspicious, but at least there's champagne and couture.





	Masqueraid

"I have a job for you," Reyes said as he entered Widow's apartment. 

 

"I'm busy," she said. She took another sip of red wine and flipped a page in her magazine. Reyes made an annoyed growling noise and threw a security video still in front of her reading.   


 

"It's Sombra," he said as she picked it up.   


 

"Thank you for clarifying. I thought it was one of the other neon purple cyborgs we knew."

 

"Maximilien is having a Halloween masquerade at the casino tonight," Reyes continued, ignoring her. "Sombra was not invited, but he spotted her there. He's concerned she's spying on him for an executive faction." Widow raised an eyebrow. "And I didn't send her."  


 

"Ah." Widow examined the picture. Sombra easily stood out in her gold sequined jumpsuit, and Widow noted her wide smile, her hand on the shoulder of some entranced heiress, and, just visible beneath the mask, her sharp, calculating eyes.   


 

"This is a bit out of character for her," she admitted. "But still. Why do I have to go?"

 

"Well. You have been to the masquerade before, and we only have a certain type of... infiltration equipment... available..."

 

She took another sip of wine and Reyes dragged a hand down his mask. 

 

"Look. Do you want to wear the dress or not?"  


 

-

 

Two hours later, Widow smoothed down the feathers on the skirt of her gown, adjusted her beaked mask, and took a moment to appreciate how good she looked before starting her work. She picked up her martini and leaned back against the bar, scanning the room. Even in the sea of extravagant, bejeweled masks, Sombra should not be hard to find. As long as she could get to her before being noticed–  


 

"Excuse me, madam." Or not. Widow closed her eyes and set down her glass. Of course, Sombra would find a way to sneak up on her, even while effectively wearing a disco ball. She turned to the voice and saw a purple mask and an exaggerated imitation of her stance and her scowl.   


 

"Sombra."  


 

"Widow," she said, in her terrible French accent, then dropped the act and grinned. "May I have this dance?"  


 

Some slow song was beginning, and Widow looked between the crowded dance floor and Sombra's outstretched hand. "Fine," she said shortly. If this was the game Sombra wanted to play, well, she had beaten her at it before. Sombra almost jogged to stay ahead of her, and Widow rolled her eyes as she realized why– when they stepped onto the wooden floor, Sombra put one hand on her shoulder and one on her waist and began the steps. 

 

"I don't know why you think you're leading," Widow said. Sombra looked affronted.   


 

"I know how to dance!"  


 

"Mhm." Widow looked pointedly down at their feet– Widow's moving smoothly and gracefully, Sombra's darting and occasionally readjusting. 

 

"Well. Anyway. You are my plus one."

 

"Yes, about that. Maximilien seems to think that you're mistaken about being invited."  


 

"How rude of him," Sombra said serenely. "And this is a masquerade. Who's to say I'm really this 'Sombra' you speak of?"  


 

"You have bright pink implants in your skull."  


 

"I hear that's the latest fashion. Speaking of," her smile became more sharklike, "I need to thank Reyes when I get back. You look beautiful tonight."  


 

Sombra toyed with one of the feathers on her hip and Widow narrowed her eyes. Sombra did not seem at all concerned that she was here, and while Sombra did thrive on chaos, Widow could not detect any gears turning in her head, no adrenaline rush of improvisation. Sombra was still leading, still one step ahead of her. 

 

"You wore that thing for a reason," Widow said, staring at her shimmering jumpsuit.

 

"Well, yeah, last time Gabe made me wear a clown outfit, I figure it's only right–"

 

"No." Sombra raised an eyebrow. "You're wearing sequins, you were ingratiating yourself in every group here, talking loudly, making a show– you wanted us to find you."

 

"Look at you, Spider," Sombra said teasingly. She was guiding her through the dance towards the northern side of the ballroom, where branching staircases were roped off. "Smart cookie. I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

 

"What are you planning, Sombra?" Widow asked. The song ended and they stopped. People applauded around them and Sombra took her hand off her waist. 

 

"Nothing," she said. "Just wanted to crash a party." Then she snapped her fingers and the lights went out. 

 

The room broke out into a cacophony of confused voices and the odd unnecessary scream. Widow felt Sombra's hand wrap around her wrist and tug, and Widow sighed and followed her as she ducked under the rope and ran up the staircase.   


 

"So you just wanted to spoil Max's fun?" she asked, when they arrived on the deserted second floor. She glanced around. It looked like it was the administrative level, judging by the plaques on the doors and the dolley of office supplies in the hallway. One door, labelled "Security," had a glowing purple electronic lock on the handle and was shaking furiously. 

 

"Not just that," Sombra said. She walked down the hallway and Widow followed, her arms folded. Sombra stopped at a filing cabinet, opened the top drawer, and began leafing through its contents casually. "When you were here with Akande, you won at craps, right?"

 

Widow cocked her head. "Yes?"

 

"And you had to leave in a rush when Vialli's dudes attacked. Did Max ever pay you back?"

 

"...No."

 

"Well." Sombra stopped at a worn manila tab near the back and pulled up on it. No file rose in her grip and instead, the cabinet slid along the wall, revealing a dark tunnel. Sombra produced a light from her palm, and Widow gasped as she illuminated stacks and stacks of money in the room beyond it. 

 

"How much would you say he owes you?"

 

-

 

"You think Maximilien will just be okay with you robbing his casino?" Reyes asked. He punctuated his question by pulling at one of the ties on Widow's dress with more force than usual. She made a face at Sombra, who grinned from her seat on Widow's counter. 

 

"Hey. Technically, he robbed Widow first. We just set things right."

 

"You also ruined his ball," Reyes said. He knelt down to undo the last of the ties, and then began the process of gingerly plucking the gown off Widow. Sombra watched curiously.

 

"Did you sew her into that or something?"

 

"No," Reyes said, at the same time as Widow said, "Basically." He had taken off his mask to better focus and so the two women could see him glower in response.   


 

"Yours has got to be the same," he said to Sombra, who made an 'eh' motion with her hand. "And given all the trouble you've caused me, you're not getting out of that thing with my help."

 

"I'll manage," Sombra said, rolling her eyes. "And seriously. Chill. We just took what was rightfully Widow's. He has nothing to complain about."  


 

"So Maximilien won't be getting any expenses from Atelier Versace charged to his account, will he?"

 

"Who knows? He seems like the type to order couture while getting... what's the Omnic equivalent of day drunk?"  


 

"It'll be fine, Reyes," Widow said as she finally, carefully, shimmied out of the dress. "Max owes me. And he can afford it."

 

He looked between the two of them and sighed. "If he gets angry, I'm sending him to you," he told Widow. "And you," he said, pivoting to Sombra. "Take care of that thing."

 

"I know!"

 

"No. Really. Where are you going to put it?"

 

"Uh. On a hanger?" Reyes's full body shudder sent waves of black vapor rolling off him.   


 

"God. Hang on." He left the apartment, still  trailing smoke and holding Widow's gown as if it were a newborn made of porcelain. Sombra watched the door shut, then slid off the counter and sat down next to Widow on the sofa. 

 

"So," she asked, putting her arm around her bare shoulder. "What are you going to spend the money on?"

 

"I don't know," Widow said honestly. "Money isn't an issue for me, Sombra. There's nothing I really want for."

 

"Mmm. Poetic." Sombra brushed her hair behind her ear, her knuckles grazing Widow's cheek. "Guess you could spend on me, if you wanted. Haven't had a vacation in a while."  


 

"So this whole thing was all about you?" she asked, without any real malice.   


 

"Widow! You wound me. And after all." Sombra leaned in closer, setting her other hand on Widow's thigh. "It'd be no fun without you there."

 

"Tonight was fun," Widow murmured. Sombra drew back slightly, and Widow was surprised to see a certain rawness in her eyes. 

 

"Really?" Widow blinked, confused. "I mean, you didn't get to spend much time at the dance, most of it was us running around, and I know that's not exactly... I know you're not the same about money..."  


 

Sombra drew her hand back and lay it on her own sequined knee. Widow reached over and took it. 

 

"Sombra. That was the most fun I've had since..." She paused, then shook her head. "Since my last date with you, I suppose. You are... fun. To be with. No matter what. I like it."

 

Sombra laughed and ducked her head down, a smile on her face. "I like it too," she said. Widow felt her slow heart skip and she did not know what to do about that, so she reached up and tilted Sombra's chin up and kissed her. Widow slid into her lap and Sombra wrapped her arms around her and slipped her hand under the clasp of her bra, before pausing and pulling back. 

 

"I have no idea how to get out of this stupid jumpsuit," she whispered.

**Author's Note:**

> [Sombra's look](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2017-couture/atelier-versace/slideshow/collection#5) | [Widow's look](https://www.vogue.com/fashion-shows/fall-2017-couture/elie-saab/slideshow/collection#45)
> 
> Gabe, five minutes later: Okay here's a mannequin you're going to want to keep this in a windowless room and invest in a dehumidifier–  
> Widow, from her bedroom: Get her out of that thing in under a minute and I will kill Morrison for you.
> 
> I'm @tacticalgrandma on tumblr if you want to talk there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments/kudos will make me love you <3


End file.
